Chapter 5

Quinn had just finished restocking the cabinets when Morda appeared in the doorway of the medbay.

"Can I help you my lord?"

Her sharp eyebrow ridges often gave her a perpetually angry look, but tonight they accentuated a certain seriousness in her eyes that made her look preoccupied, even concerned. Quinn was struck by how young she appeared. Ten years lost on Balmorra meant that there was a new crop of young Sith making their way through the ranks, and Quinn had always guessed that there was an age difference between him and Morda. For the first time he wondered how big the gap really was. Her actions lately were full of the recklessness and narrow sightedness of youth. Quinn had attributed it to Pierce's influence, but perhaps she simply lacked experience.

"Get ready to accompany me tomorrow in the field. I need you."

"Of course." He tried to squash the boyish excitement which gripped him at hearing her say she needed him. Even his hatred of Hoth was momentarily forgotten. Whatever she was planning for tomorrow's mission was important enough that she wanted him there and not Pierce. That meant something. It must.

After she left, Quinn overheard her through his open door talking to Pierce in the neighboring room. He couldn't make out every word, but it was obvious that Pierce was trying to convince her to change her mind about leaving him behind. He sounded surprised and disgruntled, but eventually he acquiesced. Quinn quickly went to work packing his med bag.

They were hunting two Jedi, and they found them the next day in an ice cavern. Morda fought the younger Jedi, her dual blades a blur of motion and her moves honed and exact. Quinn realized that it had been months since he had seen her fight, and she had improved. She left the young Jedi unconscious, refraining from dealing the killing blow. The older Jedi pleaded with her to show mercy and to leave them be in the cavern. Morda had laughed and then sealed them both in the cavern by throwing a spike of Force power at the walls, causing an avalanche. "Can you imagine the look at that young Wyellett's face when he discovers that his own Master chose an eternity in an ice prison for him rather than a warrior's death? Stupid Jedi. Let them rot in each other's company."

The Imperial military requested Morda's help in dealing with a few strategic matters, so their stay on Hoth was prolonged even after Jedi Xerender had been eliminated. Morda took Pierce on these missions and did not ask for Quinn's presence again. Yet, Quinn noted that none of these battles were as dangerous or risky as the one she had asked him to go on with her. He had been able to tend to her wounds in the field, and she even commented on how pleasant it was to not have to wait until the end of the day. Perhaps she would ask for his help again, in time.

00o00

Quinn unpacked a crate of poison antidote and filed away each of the vials. They were back on Quesh again, a planet with a poisonous atmosphere. All personnel were required to have the vaccine before landing on the planet, and then it had to be re-administered periodically. Customs offered free injections to all Sith by default, but Quinn felt better having his own supply. He knew how things worked in the military. Supply levels were not always monitored as carefully as they should be, permissions had to be acquired, and going through the proper channels sometimes caused delays. Morda's considerable clout allowed Quinn to order his own personal stash, and he felt much better for it. He advised the crew to come see him to get their injections before the end of the day.

Morda was the last to stop by for hers. She fidgeted on a nearby cot while he prepared the dose. Morda had never been bothered by needles before, and starting a new mission usually sprouted anticipation from her, not nervousness, so he was baffled by her odd mood.

"What's in that stuff?"

He was confused by the question. "Antibodies, a channel blocker, some inert ingredients…is that what you mean, my lord?"

She was fiddling with her holopad, typing furiously. "Just looking at something. Are there any contraindications?"

"Those with compromised immune systems should avoid using it or visiting Quesh altogether. But my lord, you passed the health inspection last week when we applied for entry. Are you not feeling well now?"

"I feel fine! Did I say anything about not feeling well? Damn it Quinn, just-hang on." She studied the holopad with great interest, scrolling down the screen with a finger. "Oh, never mind."

Quinn waited for her to continue or to offer some kind of explanation, but she just stared back at him blankly.

"What are you waiting for? Get on with it." She waved a hand at him and scowled.

"Of course, my lord." He approached and she sat there, looking straight ahead, already distracted by some deep thought. She had forgotten to roll up her sleeve. He opened his mouth to say something, but her unwelcome frown stopped him. He took her wrist in his hand and began working on her sleeve himself. She glanced at him in surprise and muttered an "oh, right," before growing silent again. Something was obviously on her mind. Quinn slid a finger as unobtrusively as he dared over the underside of her wrist and felt her pulse beating fast. He couldn't do a proper count, but it was noticeably high. She didn't feel unusually warm. Was she sick? Upset about something? It was not like her to act secretive.

When he was done, he hovered for a moment at her side, indecisive about whether he should say something. She broke from her reverie and reached to redo her sleeve, shooting him a look. "We done here?"

"Yes…Yes, we are finished."

She hopped off the cot and bolted through the door. His chance to speak was lost.

00o00

He had not expected her to ask for him on this mission, so he was surprised when she did. The Imperial command center had recently discovered a network of tunnels leading into a cavern directly under their building, and Republic troops were scurrying around under there like bugs, readying explosives. It was critical situation.

The tunnels were dark and smelled dank. They were hastily dug, so the floor was uneven and dotted with jutting rocks and roots from nearby trees. Quinn imagined that he could feel the weight of the entire planet pushing down on the low ceilings, ready to crush them at the slightest sound of a skittering rock. As they got closer to their objective, they encountered guards, but their defenses were pitiful against Morda's attacks. Her lightsabers cast a sinister red glow in the tight tunnels, and created strangely moving shadows. The discharge from Quinn's blaster was muffled by the close dirt walls. Quinn felt like the planet was sucking them into its belly, devouring the light, the sound, and everything living that entered it. He tried to shake the feeling. This place was getting to him.

The tunnel flowed out into a cavern that was both wide and tall, perhaps it had once been a basement warehouse now condemned to disuse. There they found a few last commandos, guarding a set of explosives. The Pubs tried to put up a fight, and held valiantly to their posts, resisting even though Quinn could clearly see the fear wrought on their faces. He gave them credit for that much at least. One of them proved wilier than the rest. He dived for the detonator, his hands fumbling for the switch. Morda held out a hand to choke him, but it was too late. Quinn saw the trooper press the button. Is this how it all ends?

Nothing happened. Morda laughed in the man's face as he slammed the button again and again, crying, "No, no no!" and then she struck him down with one swing of her lightsaber. She turned and flashed Quinn a triumphant smile.

Her holocom went off. A hazy image of Lord Draagh, Darth Baras's other apprentice, appeared. He congratulated Morda on her victory, but his tone was smug. There was something very wrong here.

"Darth Baras knew you would strike against him someday, and he has given me the honor of seeing to the end to his most powerful apprentice. This has all been an elaborate set-up by one of Baras's Republic moles to eliminate you, Lord Morda." Draagh held up a small box. "I hold the real detonator." He gave her a mock bow. "Goodbye, Lord Morda."

He held out his hand and pressed the button with a dramatic flourish. A brilliant flash of light blinded Quinn, followed a split second later by a thunderous blast. He was weightless, the air shaking around him and pebbles pelting him from all sides. A blow connected with his shoulder and he was thrown to the ground. The roar was endless, assaulting his ears as his body was tossed about like he weighed nothing. Hadn't he already hit the ground once already? Had he been airborne all this time? His notion of up and down ceased to exist. He knew pain, and darkness, and a terrible ear-spitting ring that vibrated throughout his head.

Gradually he became aware of something cold and hard against his cheek. He groaned but could not hear his own voice. He was not dead. He had survived. He opened his eyes but immediately had to close them again and rub out the grit with his hands before he could try again.

"My lord!" It was a pathetic croak, far drowned out by that infernal ringing. Was he deaf? He stumbled to his feet. The ground was littered with stones the size of a land speeder. The ground rocked under his feet and he fell. No, the ground had not moved, his balance was off. He got up again, slower this time, and turned in a gentle circle. Lord Morda was nowhere in sight.

"My lord!" His voice sounded so far away. How would she ever hear him? "My lord!" His throat burned and his voice broke. He stumbled around the cavern, staring at the fallen rocks, terrified that he would see a red-skinned limb crushed underneath one of the boulders. This place was tomb now, and the thought of being trapped here alone made him wish that he had been killed by the blast instead. This was no mercy, it was a nightmare.

Then he saw it. A sickening feeling gripped him in the gut and he ran towards the patch of red that he had spotted among a pile of fallen rubble. He wrestled with rocks that were half his size, panic welling in his chest. There, in a tiny pocket of space, Morda lay crumpled on the ground, her limbs splayed awkwardly. He caught sight of one wild eye blinking back at him, and her hand burst through one of the holes to grip his. She squeezed tight and for a moment Quinn did nothing else but hold on, feeling the warmth of her hand inside his, relief pouring through him.

"I've got you, my lord…hang on...I've got you." He dropped to the ground beside her, and continued to repeat barely sensical words of comfort while he wrenched the rocks away from her. At last he grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her to her knees, but when he tried to bring her to her feet, she threw her arms around him and held him tight. She remained, simply hanging on, saying nothing, and Quinn returned the embrace automatically, clutching her to him and burying his face in her dusty hair. "I've got you," he said again. Her arms gave him a hard squeeze and he thought he heard her speak his name into his ear. Whether it was from the strain of lifting the rocks or the shock over what had happened he wasn't sure, but he realized that he was shaking. He cradled her head against his shoulder and stroked her hair. Under normal circumstances, he would never have allowed himself to be so bold, but none of that felt like it mattered now. He was just grateful to have pulled her from the rubble alive.

She coughed, gagging on the clouds of dust that were still settling around them. He released her and helped her to her feet. For a while they stood in the cavern like two lost souls, staring around at room, which was virtually unrecognizable now. Quinn began poking through the rubble again, searching for his med bag. When he found it, he returned to Morda. She was slumped against a rock, looking dazed, hunched over while hugging her abdomen.

"Are you all right?" He broke out the scanner and hurriedly ran it over her.

"I think so," she said. "Bruised but whole." She straightened. "Are you?"

Quinn hadn't thought to assess his own injuries. He gingerly touched his face and winced. "Nothing that won't mend," he said. The scanner beeped and Quinn looked over the read-out. No major injuries were reported, although some of her counts were a bit off. He ran the scan again and frowned at it.

"I'm fine," she said, stronger this time.

"Yes, my lord, amazingly so. I think the calibration is off on this machine though. It must have gotten knocked around during the blast."

"There's light over there. Let's see if it leads out."

They followed one of the tunnels a short ways before realizing it was a dead end. They found another and thought that one was blocked too, but then Morda spotted a gap and they each took turns squeezing through. They ended up a good ways away from the command center. They spoke little during the long walk back, but at one point Morda reached out and took his hand in hers, and then kept it there for the rest of the journey.

Once they returned to civilization, they were quickly separated. Quinn spotted Morda being tended to on a cot in the far corner, nodding and conversing with a droid. Quinn sat on his own cot while another medical droid fussed around him, but his thoughts were already far away. Baras wanted Morda dead and he would have died with her. Did Baras simply lump him in with Morda now, or was he that insignificant? What did all this mean?

00o00

"My lord," the droid's glowing eye sockets blinked at her. "You are in a dual life-form state."

"I'm still…the baby's alive?"

"All life signs are positive."

Morda threw her head in her hands and breathed deep. She quickly composed herself. The droid was still speaking.

"You are lacking in nutritional supplements, and you have no record of medical care since you entered this status change."

"And it will stay that way, you hear? You will erase the record of this exam." Morda glared at the droid.

"Acknowledged. Records set to destruct on conclusion of this exchange. Please take form 22B-7654-EC to the medicine distribution center to receive your supplements. This will ease your exhaustion."

"Fine, fine," Morda said. The droid attached a data stick to her holopad, transferring the form to her memory bank, and handed it back to her. "I don't want a record of these supplements either."

"Sending discretionary protocols to distribution center records now." The droids eyes blinked again.

"Are we done here?"

"Exam complete."

Morda got up and began looking for Captain Quinn. She found him sitting on a pallet. The left side of his face was discolored and had started to swell. She guessed that he might be getting a black eye along with it. At least her bruises were mostly invisible under her clothes.

"Quinn, head back to the ship when you are done. Don't wait for me. I have something to attend to and then I will be along."

"Yes, my lord." His voice was hoarse and barely recognizable.

It was late when Morda returned to the ship. Broonmark was the only one awake. He burbled something that sounded welcoming and Morda gave him a distracted wave. She was more than exhausted. She eased herself into bed, mindful of her new bruises, but sleep would not come. She stared at the ceiling, then turned and buried her head under her pillow, then flipped to her stomach. She couldn't tolerate this position long however. It felt like someone had strapped a huttball to her abdomen and it was hard and uncomfortable. The baby is growing bigger, she thought. I can't sleep on my stomach anymore.

She rolled over again and sighed. Her ears were still faintly ringing from the explosion hours ago. A warrior faced death every battle, and injuries were common, but cybernetics could fix loss of limbs and other serious traumas, so Morda had rarely considered the possibility that she might encounter something powerful enough to kill her instantly. Her own mortality felt far closer than she had ever considered, and worse yet was the thought that this baby - her baby - could have been killed as well. Being pregnant was a bigger responsibility than she had wanted to admit.

Her Sith master wanted her dead and no doubt thought he had succeeded. There was an advantage in this. She couldn't keep going along blithely acting like nothing had changed. She needed to lay low while she was vulnerable, and see this baby birthed safely. Then, and only then, could she turn her goals to revenge.

Once her decision was made, Morda decided that sleep was pointless. She rose and went to go wake Vette.

00o00

Quinn was abruptly thrown out of his sound sleep by a pounding on the medbay door. He stumbled from bed and hit the entry switch. Pierce was on the other side, glowering and still wearing his nighttime shirt and shorts.

"Lord Morda is gone. Vette too." Pierce grabbed Quinn by the scruff of his shirt and jerked him forward. "What happened? Start talking."

"What are you talking about?" Quinn yanked his shirt out of Pierce's fist. "I suggest you back off and start explaining instead."

Jaesa came around the corner. "Check your holos, both of you. She left us all messages."

Quinn's holocomm was by his bedside table, blinking. He flicked it on. Morda appeared, looking worn and tired.

"Captain, I need to go away for a time." She paused and rubbed her forehead. "I don't know how long exactly. A while. I've made arrangements for all of you to be posted on Quesh. This is a temporary assignment, and I will be reassembling the crew when I return. Quinn…" Her eyes looked right through the holo at him, serious and pleading. "…the ship is under your command. Take care of things for me…I know you will." Her image flickered and then disappeared.

Quinn stared at the holo for a moment, too stunned for coherent thought. Why had she left them? Yesterday would have been a traumatic experience for anyone, even a Sith, but it was not like her to back down from hardship. Her behavior was baffling and completely out of character. He recalled the way she had thrown herself into his arms back in the cavern, and how she had gripped his hand nearly the whole walk back. He had felt a connection then, felt wanted. Had he imagined more meaning there than there really was? The explosion had shaken her no doubt, but when he had last seen her, she was back to acting like her old self again, confident and in charge. Was she unwell?

Pierce was back in Quinn's doorway, his holo in hand. He snorted. "Hell, looks like a rancor crapped on your face, Quinn. What happened out there? We heard Baras tried to kill her. Is that why she's running?"

"Darth Baras rigged the whole thing to bring down the cavern on us. Lord Draagh set off the explosives." Quinn set down the holo. "I…I don't know how we survived."

"Running's a coward's way out! She should know better than that. Don't understand it." Pierce shook his head.

"It's not our place to judge," Quinn said. He looked out at Pierce and Jaesa and even Broonmark, who was hovering nearby, gurgling mournfully, and saw their faces turned to him, waiting for guidance. He could hear the ship's droid just out of sight muttering, "Oh dear, oh dear…" The crew needed leadership and direction. It was time for him to step up and take charge of things.

"We will report to the command center on Quesh like Lord Morda directed. We have jobs to do and we won't be idle while she is gone. They will probably want you to move to the local barracks, Lieutenant," he nodded in Pierce's direction, "so you should gather up your belongings and report there. The rest of you will get your assignments when we report in. More will be explained to us then."

They dispersed and he closed the medbay door. He leaned against it and stared at the med cot that he called a bed. He wanted to crawl back under the sheets and start this day over. Events from the previous day replayed in his head, but he still hadn't worked out the meaning of it all. He would follow Morda's orders and trust that she knew her business. It was not his call to question a Sith after all.

He got dressed and left his room. The ship's droid accosted him in the hallway.

"Lord Morda did not leave me instructions," it said. "Are you my master now? Please don't deactivate me!"

"I will be your master in her absence," Quinn told the droid. "You will carry on with your duties as normal."

He sighed. Even the droid needed reassuring. What was he left with other than questions? He would make do. He began to make preparations for his deployment to Quesh.